April Fools!
by Number One Fan of Journey
Summary: It's April Fool's Day, and plans are in the works to prank America. But will everything go as planned? What will America's reaction be? And how does Mexico keep sneaking into America's house? !
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Yes, this fiction has no pairings. Sorry to disappoint you. I just have a hangup on yaoi, and pretty much every pairing on this show is yaoi. .

Mexico makes an appearance, but she is an OC since I have no idea if there is a Mexico or not.

There is really no particular timeframe for this, so situate it where you please.

And comment if you like it! I love to hear from the readers. :)

* * *

The lights in the room hummed, illuminating three figures around an old table.

"Do you know what day it is tomorrow?" Germany started.

"Um… Friday?" Japan responded quizzically.

"Well, yes, but… What _day_ is it tomorrow?"

"Pasta Day?" Italy suggested hopefully.

"No!" Germany shouted. Upon seeing Italy flinch, he cleared his throat and grinned. "It's April Fool's Day!"

Italy suddenly looked terrified, while Japan only seemed confused.

"What does that mean?" Japan finally asked.

"It means," Germany replied, "we get to play a practical joke on someone. And I've got the perfect idea!"

Italy flinched again.

"I'm not pranking you, Italy!" Germany sighed.

Italy relaxed a little.

"So… What exactly are you… 'pranking', then?" Japan asked.

Germany walked over to something about his height covered with a beige sheet. He yanked the cover off with a grin.

"A… scale?" Japan observed.

"Yes!" Germany replied. "It's _America's_ scale!"

"How did you get it…?"

"That's not important," Germany said quickly, dismissing Italy's question.

"What are you going to do with it?" Japan prompted.

"I'm going to rig it!" Germany announced, wielding a wrench and opening a latch on the scale. "It'll make America think he's gained 20 pounds! And…" He paused to fiddle with something inside the scale. "…Once I'm finished with this, we'll get him a new wardrobe, the same as his, but one size smaller." Germany finished with what could only be described as an evil laugh.

"What exactly is the point of this?" Japan ventured.

"I told you, April Fool's," Germany replied, turning on a flashlight. "It's just a joke for us."

"Then, if I may add something…" Japan requested.

"Go ahead," Germany replied, sticking his hand into the scale.

"America and I wear similar sizes of clothing, and the increments between sizes are quite small… We should probably use clothing two sizes smaller."

"Oh! All right," Germany replied, pulling his hand back out of the inside of the scale. "Good thinking." He put the panel back on and stepped onto the scale.

"Wow, Germany, you weigh a lot," Italy commented once the scale had settled.

"I just rigged it, you idiot!"

"But even without the 20 pounds—"

"It's muscle! _Muscle!_"

"Yes, sir!" Italy squeaked, stepping back.

Germany sighed and stepped off the scale. "Now that that's done," he announced, "let's go shopping."

* * *

"Do you think one set will be enough?" Japan pondered, looking at the stack of clothes the Axis had gathered.

"It should. If you want to get two, go ahead; you're paying for it," Germany replied.

"Eh?! Why am I paying for it?"

"Well, I don't have any money!" Germany scoffed.

"I don't have much, either!" Japan responded.

"Well, you have more than I do!"

Italy took a few tentative steps back, afraid he might get caught in the crossfire.

* * *

"All right," Germany started, flopping the clothes onto the private meeting room's old table, "that's everything. Now we just need to get them into America's house…"

"Germany, Germany! I'll do it!" Italy offered enthusiastically, thrusting his hand into the air.

"No! You're horrible at this kind of thing!"

Italy's hand slowly slid back down to his side.

"No, we need furtiveness, someone sneaky…" Germany muttered.

"Sneaky?" Japan echoed.

"Yes, someone America wouldn't… notice…" Germany trailed off, immediately jumping over to the room's telephone.

"Oh! You have someone in mind, Germany?" Italy asked.

"Yep," Germany replied with a grin, dialing a number.

* * *

"Hello?" Canada said quietly, holding his phone to his ear.

"Morning, Canada!" Germany greeted.

"Um, good mor—?"

"So," Germany interrupted, "we have an idea for April Fool's Day—we're playing a practical joke on America—and we were wondering if you'd like to help!"

"Um… I don't really have anything against—"

"Oh, it's just a prank!" Germany reassured. "Besides, I'm sure there's _some_ sort of grudge you have against America…"

"Well…" Canada paused. "I… guess I have wanted to—"

"Good!" Germany interrupted again. "We just need you to sneak some things into his house and take his spare clothes."

"What…?"

"Just come over to my house, and we'll give you what you need."

"Um… Okay?"

"See you!" The dial tone hummed on Canada's phone for a moment before he hung up.

"Well, Kumajiro," Canada mumbled, turning toward his pet, "I guess I'm going to Germany's house…" Canada grabbed his jacket.

"…Who are you?" Kumajiro asked.

"I'm Canada…"

* * *

"Yes, he should be here soon," Germany replied, checking the door again.

"Are you sure?" Japan started. "Canada's house is somewhat far from your own. How are you so sure he will arrive this quickly?"

"Oh, he will," Germany replied.

Italy raised his hand. "While we're waiting, can I have some pa—"

"No."

* * *

"Here're the clothes," Germany started, pushing the neatly-folded stack of undersize clothing toward a nervous-looking Canada, "and the scale's right over there." Germany pointed to America's rigged scale.

"Is it heavy?" Canada muttered, looking over the scale.

"No, not at all," Germany reassured. "So, do you think you could handle this?"

"Um… I guess… But won't America notice half his clothes are missing?"

"Well, he's always in such a rush," Japan answered. "I doubt he'd be looking in his closet long enough to realize it."

"That's true," Canada replied softly. "Okay. I'll do it."


	2. Canada the Ninja!

A/N: Ahaha. Both Canada and Mexico are ninjas. Only Mexico is a ninja on purpose. x3

Please review! 3

* * *

Canada stumbled forward again, the scale, with the still-folded clothing on it, in his arms. "He was lying," he mumbled angrily. "This thing _is _heavy…" He sighed. "Well, by the time I get there, America should be out eating lunch… So maybe this won't be so bad…" He shuffled forward.

* * *

"Well, I made it…" Canada looked over America's house, allowing himself to set the scale down for a moment. "But how am I going to get in?" He put his hand on the doorknob and experimentally started to turn it. "After all, there's no way he'd just leave it unlock—" Canada yelped as the door, on which he was putting his weight, opened suddenly. He tumbled over, bonking his head on the carpet.

"Ow…" He stood up and looked around. The lights were off inside, but the bright daylight coming in through the open door was enough for Canada to see.

"I guess he isn't home, then. That's good," Canada mumbled, picking up the scale and clothes again and padding into the house. He shut the door behind him quietly.

As he tiptoed through the living room, Canada noticed a light from around the corner. "He's not home, is he?" Canada snuck over to the corner and peeked over it. It was the kitchen, and someone was eating there.

It wasn't America, though; in fact, it was someone Canada had only seen running about the North American neighborhood. Her name was Mexico.

She had dark skin, a long, black braid running down her back, and brown eyes. She was wearing a simple, black tank top and a flowing, colorful skirt that only reached her mid-thigh.

But she seemed to be paying enough attention to her meal to not notice Canada. "Works for me," he mumbled almost silently, slinking past the kitchen doorway.

"And America's room is this way, I think," he said to himself, recalling the last time he had been to America's house. It had been America's birthday party, but, of course, no one seemed to realize Canada had been there…

Canada turned down one more of the hallways before finally reaching the bedroom. He shuffled inside, looking behind him for a few moments. "I really can't see in here… I'd like to turn the light on, but I'm afraid Mexico would find me…" He sighed. "I could probably find his closet in the dark, anyway, right?"

So Canada tiptoed around the room, feeling the formless, rough bumps on the wall until his fingers met wood. "Here, this must it," he sighed in relief, trying to find a doorknob. He found one, and opened the door. To his surprise, a dim light from inside clicked on, just managing to illuminate the few hangers of clothing the closet held. "All right!" Canada responded happily, setting the scale down and unfolding the two-sizes-too-small clothing. He peeked around the corner one more time, but neither Mexico nor America was anywhere in sight.

* * *

Canada slung the last of America's real clothing over his shoulder, but hesitated to close the door. He looked behind him, to see if he could make anything out, but the closet light didn't reach an inch past his feet. He sighed, closing the door and blinking to get used to the darkness again. He waved his hand around until he bumped into the top of the scale. He grabbed it and looked around, but couldn't make out anything.

"I guess I'll have to turn the lights on after all," he whispered, letting go of the scale and fumbling over to where he knew the light switch would be. He held his breath and turned the lights on.

Though instantly blinding him, the light started to tone down after a few moments, and Canada looked around, squinting.

"How am I supposed to figure out where the scale goes, though?" he muttered, scanning the cluttered room. A small strip of paper on one of the rare empty spots of wall caught his eye. "…Huh?" He walked over.

"Scale goes here!" the paper read in large, Sharpie-black letters. "Why in the world would America do that…?" Canada mumbled. "Is he onto us?"

* * *

_The odd B-movie finally scrolled its credits, and Japan turned off his television, wondering why he had wasted the time to watch it, despite his companion._

"_America?" Japan started, tapping the shoulder of the other person on the couch, who was huddled over. America didn't respond._

"…_Were you really that scared?" Japan asked._

"_Huh? No, of course not!" America screeched quickly, sitting up._

"_Then what…?"_

_America held up a couple of strips of paper and a Sharpie. "I'm going to make sure this doesn't happen to me!"_

"_America, I don't think there are really memory-eating monsters… At least not like th—"_

"_Sure, that's what they all say!" America exclaimed, turning back to his papers. "And then—wham! They can't remember anything!" He only paused long enough to hear Japan sigh. "I'm going to label the places of everything in my house," he continued, scribbling something on one of the papers, "so it won't matter if I can't remember where everything goes!"_

"_All right…"_

* * *

Canada shrugged, going back to fetch the scale and putting it where the label told him to. "Well, I guess I'm done, then. Let's get out of here before I get caught." He tiptoed back to the light switch, turned out the lights, and walked back out of the room.

"I really can't see in this darkness," he muttered, sliding a hand along the wall next to him. "And with all the junk America has lying around, I'm surprised—" He cut off as his hand bumped hard into something, sending it crashing down to the floor. He stared, bug-eyed, at the darkness near his feet. "Oh, no!" he whimpered. "This wasn't supposed to—"

"You're not America."

Canada yelped as the hallway light turned on and he found himself looking at Mexico.

"Um, no, I'm not," he stuttered, stepping back from the floored big-mouth trout and its shattered backdrop. He looked down at it nervously.

Mexico shrugged. "All right. I was just afraid he came back early. You're, uh, Canada, right?"

Canada nodded slowly.

"Well, nice to meet you, I guess." Mexico looked back toward the front door. "But how in the world did you get past the alarm?"

"Alarm…?" Canada echoed. "There wasn't an alarm…"

"Oh, you went through the window? That's what I do."

"Um, no, I just went through the front door…"

"Well, I set the alarm myself," Mexico snorted. "I know it was on."

"Um, okay?"

"Guess it just didn't notice you." Mexico looked toward the fish on the ground. "You should probably clean that up."

"Oh, yeah, I guess so…" He stooped over, picked up the fish, and walked it over near the front door, where it would be out of the way.

The door creaked. "Canada!" Italy called loudly. "How is everything going?" There was a short beep.

"Oh, crap!" Mexico hissed through her teeth.

"Huh? What?" Canada responded. "What's going on?"

"He set off the alarm!" Mexico responded. "I'm getting out of here!"

"Wait, what happens when it goes off?" Canada started, giving up when Mexico vanished from sight.

"So did you finish, Cana—" Italy was cut off by an ear-splitting screech.

"Aah!" Canada covered his ears as his glasses started to fracture.

"What's going o—" Italy started, his voice drowned out by a sudden bout of gunfire. He screamed, running in circles to avoid the bullets that only seemed intent on destroying him.

"Let's get out of here!" Canada cried, starting for the door but interrupted by a sudden wave of a laser beam. He jumped back, seeing more form, their ominous red light chasing down Italy.

"Italy! Come on!" Canada announced as the laser beams died down. Not waiting for the tearful Italy to catch up, he bolted for the door. "Eh?" His foot hit something metallic underneath, and he looked back to check it out. "A land mine? It doesn't look like it's gone off, at least…"

"Canada! Wait for me!" Italy bawled, speeding toward the door in the same path Canada took.

"Italy, wait—!" Canada gaped as Italy stomped on the mine.

"Huh?" Italy stopped to turn around.

"Run!" Canada exclaimed, dashing out the door moments before the explosion.

* * *

"Italy?" Canada started softly, brushing some ash off his sleeve.

"Uh-huh?"

"That was really stupid."

"Uh-huh…"


	3. Latvia Gets KO'ed

A/N: There is no way America has a six-pack. I do not care how much he works out--if he is male and eats that much, he ain't gonna have abs. Just to let you know.

Also, in this fic, the meeting things are once a week. Because I said so. :P

Thanks for all the reviews, everyone! (About the yaoi question: uh, yes to both, I guess. I just do not support/agree with/blahblahblah about yaoi. *sweatdrop*)

Keep reviewing and I will keep writing! :)

* * *

America, humming and still munching a hamburger, walked up to his front door, which was ajar.

"Hm?" He cautiously nudged the door open. The sudden rush of smoke made him cough and wave at the air until he could breathe. Wiping some of the residue off his glasses, he flicked on the light and peered around the room.

Bullet holes specked the floor and the lower part of the wall, while some scorches from the lasers ripped all the way across the length of the foyer. There was a small hole in the ground where his mine must have gone off—it wasn't that powerful, only designed to cripple invaders, not destroy them—and a fish and pieces of broken imitation wood were lying forlornly to the side.

"It must have been that darn Mexico again!" America huffed. "Well, I bet I've finally scared her off for good!" He laughed victoriously, closing the door behind him.

"Idiot," Mexico muttered, ducking back behind the living room couch.

* * *

"Italy, wake _up_!" Germany yelled, kicking the side of the bed. "We have to finish our training early today so we can get to the meeting on time!"

"Wait, don't go, ladies," Italy mumbled in his sleep, rolling over on his side.

"Wake _up_!"

* * *

America yawned, sitting up in his bed. "Morning already?" he mumbled, flopping his feet over the side of his bed. He stood and stretched, looking around his room. "Ah, hey…" He plodded over to his scale. "I haven't gone on this in a little while,"—he stepped onto the scale—"but I'm sure there won't be much of a dif…fer…ence…" He trailed off, staring blankly at the scale's readout.

"Wha…?" He shook his head. "This can't be right…" He fiddled with the slides on top of the scale for a while, but it made no difference to the reading.

"H-Have I really gained that much weight?" he stuttered, stepping back from the scale. "I mean, I _have_ been eating a _couple _more Supersized meals a day… But… 25 pounds?!"

_Bzz! Bzz! Bzz! _America turned to his alarm clock. "Why's this thing set?" he muttered, turning it off. "Wait, it's Friday, isn't it?! There's a meeting today!" He checked the time. "Well, I don't want to be late…" He clunked the clock back down on its cluttered stand and rushed over to his closet, picking out the outfit in the center. As he started to put it on, however, he soon noticed something was wrong.

"I really have gained weight!" he cried, slumping down. "Oh, I can't go to the meeting like this! But… I guess I have to go…" He sighed, instinctively walking into his kitchen. "Well, I guess I shouldn't eat anything big for breakfast… Or maybe I shouldn't eat breakfast at all…" He shook his head, determining the latter suggestion to be blasphemy. He looked around his pantry a while until something caught his eye.

"Perfect!"

* * *

"Well, I wonder if the prank is going to work?" Canada mumbled, walking over to the meeting room. "After all I've gone through, I hope I at least get to laugh a little…" He stepped into the room and looked for his brother.

"Say, England," America, awkwardly slumped behind the table, was saying, "could I borrow a couple thousand dollars?"

"Wh-what?! No!" England glared at him. "Why do you need 'a couple thousand dollars', anyway?!"

"Oh, it's only money," America replied. "And I just need a loan to fix my foyer…"

"Bull! You still haven't paid me back the loan I gave you years ago!"

"Well, uh, about that…" America's voice soon faded into the background as the countries in attendance grew louder.

Canada glanced up at the clock. It was two minutes past starting time, but… No one would hear him if he announced they should start, especially in this noise. He opened his mouth, anyway.

"Um—"

"Everyone, quiet!" Germany barked. The noise started to settle down. "It's time to start the meeting! We'll present our cases one at a time." He paused, suppressing a grin. "America, why don't _you_ go first?"

"All right," America replied in his usual fashion, though he seemed oddly ruffled by the concept of occupying his normal niche in the meeting. He stood up, and a chorus of snickers immediately started among the other nations.

The buttons near the top of America's shirt were straining to stay in place, while the lowermost buttons were apparently impossible to fasten; a good portion of his stomach was visible underneath the black belt that struggled to encircle his waist. That combined with the waistband on his pants, which managed to give him a rather convincing muffin top, made for a very unflattering appearance.

"Have you, uh, gained a little weight, America?" chuckled Russia.

"N-No! Y-Yes… A-A little bit…" America muttered. He put his hand into the brown paper bag he had brought with him.

"And you're _still_ going to eat the whole time?" scoffed England.

"It's okay; I'm, uh, on a diet now!" America replied, pulling a green bell pepper from his bag.

"I thought you were on a diet of Japan's food," China said, glancing at his brother.

"He got sick of all the fish," Japan replied. "He gave it up after he lost the amount of weight he was aiming for."

"Ah." China sighed. "So, you're going on some fad diet now, America?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _fad_," America replied, looking at the vegetable in his hand. "Besides, this has been _proven _to work! I saw it on television!" He took a bite and somehow managed to swallow it before he continued talking. "Whenever I get hungry, I just eat a bell pepper!"

"Whenever you get hungry? No diet that lets you eat _that_ much is going to work," England scoffed.

"_Anyway_!" America started. "As for my report…" He took another bite of the pepper and returned to his usual unintelligible, mouth-full speech.

* * *

"All right, then," Germany said. "Meeting concluded. Let's go home." All the nations but America stood.

"Oh? Do you need help getting up, America?" Russia responded with a smile.

"No!" America roared. "Definitely not from you!"

"So I need to find someone else to help you up?"

"No, no, _no_!" America shouted. "I don't need _anyone's_ help! I can stand up perfectly fine! See?!" America got out of his chair and stood up stiffly."There! Are you happy n—" America stopped himself at the sound of a small string snapping. He watched in horror as one of the buttons on his shirt sprung off, flying clear to the other side of the room and striking Latvia in the forehead.

America dashed out of the room, leaving the new wave of completely raucous laughter behind.

* * *

A/N: Aw, poor America. Oh, well, he should not suffer any more since the prank is over... Or is it?! Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	4. Mission Impossible?

A/N: Aha, sorry for the wait, all. Hope you like this chapter~

I know I said no pairings, but there may be a teensy bit of CanadaxMexico. It's just so freaking cute in my head. x3

* * *

Germany was still laughing as he and his companions left the building. "That prank worked pretty good, huh?" he snickered.

Japan nodded silently.

"America seemed sad about it, though," Italy whimpered. "Do you think he'll get mad at us?"

"Oh, he'll realize it was a prank tomorrow, when he puts on his normal-sized clothes again," Germany replied. "Then, there's no need to tell him it was us. And I don't think he'd figure it out, anyway. He'll probably just blame Russia."

"Okay, if you say so, Germany," Italy replied, cheering up again.

"Didn't Canada take all of America's normal clothing?" Japan asked suddenly.

"Ah! That's right!" Germany exclaimed. "We'll have to tell him we're done…" He looked around. "…Has he already left?"

"I'm right here…"

"Right! I knew that," Germany responded, turning a few degrees to face Canada. "So, uh, you heard us, right?"

"Mmm-hmm," Canada replied with a nod. "I'll try to put them back today."

"All right, thanks!" Germany replied.

"And thank you for letting me participate in this. It was really fun…ny…" He trailed off as he realized the now-leaving group didn't hear him.

* * *

"Well, it doesn't look like he's home," Canada muttered, peering through America's window and seeing only darkness. "That's good." He put his hand on the doorknob, which still freely turned, and opened the door warily. The alarm did not go off, however, and he tiptoed inside, closing the door behind him.

"Ah! Canada!"

Canada flinched, but soon realized the voice that had caught him was Mexico's.

"Hello," Canada replied. He paused. "Wait… You… recognized me?"

"Of course I did," Mexico scoffed. "Your cowlick's a lot different than your brother's, and your eyes are a whole lot prettier."

"My… eyes..?"

"So!" Mexico started abruptly. "What brings you here today?"

"Oh, um, I'm just bringing America's normal clothes back," Canada replied, nodding at the clothing slung over his shoulder.

"Ah, right. Go ahead." Mexico stepped out of the way, allowing Canada to start down the corridor to America's room.

"Thanks…"

* * *

"Well… I'll… see you later, I guess?" Canada said, hand on the front door's doorknob.

"Yeah," Mexico replied. "See you."

Canada opened the door. "Maybe you could come over to my house sometime…?"

"That'd be nice," Mexico replied with a smile.

"Okay. Well… Bye."

"Bye."

* * *

America yawned, stumbling off his bed before he was fully awake. "I wonder if that was all just a dream…" he mumbled. "Maybe it's just now Friday, and none of that happened…" He yawned and looked over at his scale. "Well, one way to find out." He walked over to the scale and fiddled with it until it gave him a reading.

"I guess it wasn't a dream…" America sighed, stepping off the scale and putting on his day clothes.

"Definitely… not a dream," he grumbled, tugging at his belt hard to make it fit. "Guess I'll keep at that diet, then… But the peppers taste like crap… Oh, well…"

* * *

"Ah! Mr. America! Haven't seen you here in a while!" called the McDonald's employee behind the counter as she waved at who was usually her biggest customer. "How long's it been, a week? I thought you'd left us!"

"Oh, I wouldn't do that, Nikki!" America replied with a smile, stepping up to the counter. "Just had to go on a diet for a while, is all. Hit a benchmark, so I thought I'd celebrate."

"Yeah? Good idea," Nikki responded. "If you go on a full-fledged diet too long, you'll go crazy and ruin it, right?"

America laughed. "I've heard that happens." He leaned against the counter and looked up at the menu, even though he had it memorized. "So, I'll just have something light… One Big Mac meal with a Coca-Cola."

"One?" Nikki responded, punching something into the cash register. "You _must_ be on a diet!"

"Yep…" America paid, took his receipt, and stepped out of the way for the next customer to order.

* * *

"147!" called the worker as he set a tray down at the pick-up counter. America was quick to pick up his order and snag a seat.

"Ahaha," he sighed, looking at the food in his hands. "I haven't had a hamburger in forever…" He closed his eyes and took a bite.

"Oh! How have I gone so long without this?" He finished the burger and fries quickly and, after little debate, walked back up to the counter.

"I'll have one more meal," America requested, fishing out his wallet again.

Nikki laughed. "Yeah, just one little burger couldn't be enough, huh?"

* * *

Nikki hesitated. "U-Um, Mr. America?"

"What? You didn't run out or anything, did you?" America replied, tapping his fingers on the counter.

"Well, no, but… I mean, you said you were on a diet, didn't you?"

"Yes…"

"Well, you've, um, already ordered 23 meals…"

"What? N-No, I haven't!" America stuttered.

"Um, y-yes, you have… I guess you must have, um, lost track a little, but it's been 23… I mean, there's nothing wrong with having a few, but…"

"D-Don't you judge me!" America snapped back defensively. He stared down at his feet for a minute before suddenly sprinting out of the restaurant.

* * *

"Well," America muttered, getting out of bed and stretching, "next meeting's today." He glanced over at his scale. "Well, I guess I should check… though I'm sure it won't be that different," he chuckled, stepping over to the scale. "After all," he continued, sliding the bars on top of the scale back and forth, "I only had a few… burgers…" He stared uncomprehendingly at the scale's readout.

"I gained it all back? And another two pounds?" He jumped off the scale. "What the? How? But I," he spluttered. "Th-this can't be happening!" America stressfully collapsed on his unmade bed. "What's going on?" He freaked out for another few minutes before his calendar caught his eye.

"Oh, no! There's still a meeting today?" America shoved his face into a pillow. "Maybe I just shouldn't go… But… That wouldn't be very heroic, would it?" He got out of his bed. "That's right! I can't let a silly little thing like this stop me from—" he struck a dramatic pose— "being the hero!" He went to his closet, but paused.

"I don't think I should go in my normal clothes, though…" He slumped over. "But do I have anything else…?" America shuffled through the deep, dark corners of his closet quick as he could.

"Here!" he announced, pulling out a mass of slightly-wrinkled clothing. "This'll work!"

* * *

"And he's still not here," England sighed, glaring at the clock that said the meeting should have started ten minutes ago. "Can we just start without him?"

"Wait! Don't start the meeting yet!" America shouted, muffled by the door. The doorknob turned, and he entered the room panting. "I didn't miss anything, did I?"

"No…" Germany answered slowly.

"What are you _wearing_?" finally asked England.

"Clothes," America huffed, tugging at the outfit he had replaced his villainously-fitting old attire with: a large, greyish-brown coat that bore a striking resemblance to someone else's.

"Are you trying to copy me, America?" Russia chuckled.

"Never in a million-billion years!" America roared back. "I wouldn't copy you if my life depended on it!"

Russia smiled at him. "But you would if your appearance depended on it?"

"That's not-! I don't-! _I'm not copying you_!" America snapped his gaze back to the rest of the group. "Let's get started with the meeting, shall we?" He pulled out a burger from the large bag he had brought with him and chomped down on it.

"Hmph, off that ridiculous diet already? I _told_ you it wouldn't work," England scoffed. "I bet you've actually _gained _weight from something as stupid as that."

"That's none of your business!" America snapped back. "N-Not that I _have _gained weight or anything…" He shoved another hamburger into his mouth. "Starting the meeting!" he announced.

* * *

"Something's wrong," Japan muttered as America and a few other countries left the room. "He should have realized it was just a 'prank' by now…"

"I know," replied Germany. "Someone else must have picked up where we left off… But who?" He looked around the emptying meeting room. "Well… It would have to be someone with motive… Who seemed most amused by America's 'weight gain', then?"

"Russia," Japan and Italy replied simultaneously. The Axis looked at each other.

"This is going to get messy," concluded Germany with a sigh.

* * *

A/N: Poor America! It looks like Germany's ready to fix this, but will it be so easy?

(And America WOULD never copy Russia... Ever... Ever... *cough* SPACERACE *coughhackcough* j/k XD)

Please review! :)


	5. To Siberia!

**A/N:** Hm... I think I may have to up the rating for, like, two sentences in this one chapter. xD Tell me if you think I should (As a warning, Russia is being all random macabre... xD;;).

And thanks for commenting... It's pretty much the only thing that keeps me writing this fic. :3

* * *

"Well, we _are _friends now," Germany started, "so I may be able to talk him out of this…"

"That would be ideal," Japan agreed. "But what if he doesn't agree?"

Germany sighed, unable to come up with an answer. "Well just hope for the best, I guess."

* * *

"It's s-so c-c-cold!" the shivering Italy whimpered as he and his friends padded toward Russia's house.

"Q-Quit griping, Italy," Germany replied, his breath a misty, white fog. "A real s-soldier never complains, n-no matter how bleak the situation."

Japan sniffled, the frigidity making his nose run. "Y-You have to admit, it is quite c-cold, though."

"Y-Yeah..."

* * *

"Coming!" The shivering Axis waited on the icy porch as Russia hurried to the door.

"Ah! Good afternoon, comrades!" Russia greeted, letting Germany, Italy, and Japan inside. "Come in and warm up."

* * *

"I assume," Russia started, everyone situated in chairs around his flickering fireplace, "you did not simply come to say hello, da?"

"That's right." Germany sighed, trying to figure out a good way to introduce to the topic. "So... You know how America was acting at the meetings recently, right?"

"Of course," Russia replied chipperly. "It was almost as funny as my daydream about ripping out his entrails with a rusty spoon!"

Italy gave a soft whimper and sank back into the chair in an attempt to distance himself from Russia.

"Yes... Um," Germany finally continued, "we happen to know someone had pulled an April Fool's prank on him to make him act that way... But it wasn't intended to go past one day, and it obviously has. You didn't happen to...?"

"Ah, you think _I_ continued this prank, da?" Russia replied, and Germany responded with a curt nod. "Well, I'm afraid you're mistaken. I _did_ enjoy it, but I have better things to do than pull a practical joke on America... Like plotting his demise..." Russia chuckled creepily, making Italy whimper again.

"Are you sure?" Germany asked slowly.

"Da," Russia confirmed. "I didn't do it."

"All right..." Germany looked over at Italy, who by now looked very traumatized. "Well, thanks for your time," Germany ended, standing up and nodding at Japan and Italy.

"Ah, leaving already, comrades?" Russia responded disappointedly.

"Yes," Japan replied. "We need to figure out who's done this as quickly as possible."

"I don't see why you would need to do that," Russia said, standing up with a small, cracked grin. "After all, this prank is quite amusing, da?"

"It may have been at first, but it's gone too far now," Germany answered seriously.

"Too far?" Russia echoed. "On the contrary, I don't think it's gone quite far enough! Surely you wouldn't erase this scheme before it comes to fruition!" he exclaimed.

"What do you think the pranksters were trying to _do_?" Germany responded, dumbfounded.

"To completely destroy America's psyche, of course!" Russia replied as if it were obvious.

"I don't think that's what they were after..."

"But nonetheless, it is what they will achieve, da?" Russia said, making the comment sound like a threat.

"I refuse to let it go that far," Japan interjected, directing his cold gaze at Russia. "Now, if you don't mind, we'll be leaving!"

"Ah, but I _do _mind!" Russia replied with a grin, blocking the room's only doorway.

"You can't honestly expect to keep us here by force!" Germany exclaimed.

"Oho, I'm not expecting to have to imprison you here," Russia hummed in his cheerful-yet-nervewracking way. "I'd just like a promise from you, _comrades_, that you won't pursue this _traitorous_ investigation of yours..."

"Why on earth would we promise that?" Japan demanded.

Russia laughed, making the already-crying Italy start shaking again. "Just because we are friends now doesn't mean I will stand by and let you defy me... _Kolkolkol_..." He pulled out a faucet pipe from his jacket and looked around the others in the room.

"Don't hurt me!" Italy wailed, waving a white flag that seemed to have come from nowhere. "I'll do anything!"

"So, you'll promise not to stop this scheme, Italy, da?"

"Y-Yes! Just don't hurt me!" cried Italy, still waving his white flag.

Germany sighed. "Russia, can we be reasonable about this?"

"I'm being perfectly reasonable!" Russia replied. "If I weren't being reasonable, you three would be bloody piles of flesh at my feet by now."

Italy flinched again, backing away from Russia.

Germany gritted his teeth, trying to figure a way out of this that didn't involve surrendering or breaking the alliance.

"I'll agree," Japan suddenly said.

"Wh-What?" Germany responded incredulously, turning to look at his Oriental ally.

"I'll agree not to ask any others if they were involved in this incident," Japan continued.

"Ah! Wonderful!" Russia replied happily. He turned to Germany. "Surely you'll agree, too, comrade?"

"I..." Germany looked skeptically at Japan, who nodded.

"If you can't think of how to word it," Japan offered, "just say what I said."

"I," Germany started reluctantly, "I won't ask anyone else if they were involved."

Russia nodded cheerfully. "And you promise?"

"I... promise," Germany replied with a sigh.

"Ah, well thank you all, comrades!" Russia piped, stepping to the side of the door. "Come visit soon, da?"

"Right..."

* * *

"Good job, Germany," Japan said once the three were a good distance away from Russia's house. "I'm glad you understood what I was doing."

"Well," Germany replied, "I really didn't. But," he continued, "I know you well enough to assume you're wording your way around things."

"That's right," Japan confirmed. "fWe—well, not Italy, but you and I—only agreed to avoid asking anyone if they were involved, not to stop investigating."

"Right... But how do we keep investigating if we can't ask any questions?" Germany asked, still a bit confused.

"We have someone else ask them for us," Japan replied.

"B-But we don't want A-America to find out we pranked him!" Italy interjected. "If he g-gets mad at me..." He trailed off, but his friends could figure out what he was thinking of.

* * *

_"Tell me why _we _have to watch a stupid horror movie with him again?" Germany sighed as he, Japan, and Italy walked toward America's house._

_"I've had just about enough of him wailing about it to me," Japan grumbled._

_The Axis turned a corner, just a minute away from America's house now._

_"Then why don't you just tell him __tha—"_

_"—_out of my house_!" America's screaming cut Germany off, and Germany, Italy, and Japan looked over to see America looking angrily at Mexico, who was leaning nonchalantly against a nearby store's brick wall._

_"I can go in and out of your house whenever I want to," Mexico was scoffing. "Not my fault you can't figure out a decent security system."_

_"How's _this _for security?" America roared, pulling back for a punch. Mexico managed to dodge in time to stay safe, but the wall behind her was much less fortunate._

_"Get back here!" America yelled, chasing after Mexico._

_The stunned Axis powers stared behind him, dumbfounded, at the empty space that used to be a wall._

* * *

"He won't find out it was us," Japan assured.

"But who would we tell," Germany asked, "that could keep it a secret?"

"We don't have to tell anyone else," Japan replied. "There's one more person in on our little 'prank'..."

"Of course!" Germany exclaimed. "Genius idea, Japan! We don't break our promise, and we still get to the bottom of this with his cooperation!" He paused.

"But... who was it that helped us, again...?"


	6. Magical Mystery Tour

**A/N:** Next chapter~ lol, Canada is starting to be more of a main character in this than Germany... Uh...

And why did fanfic put the human names on here? D: The human names make me want to cut myself... I don't know why, I just really, really hate them... Bleh... And I hate the name Alfred. I do. I like Alf, but he's a cute, little alien anteater. And America isn't a cute, little alien anteater. (In case you were unsure about that. XD)

Superquick update! Finals are fun when you get to exempt them. Especially when you can hang out in the library and type on your fan fictions for three hours. :D

Please review!

* * *

"You want me to do _what_?" asked Canada, gripping his telephone.

"Look, I know it's a lot to ask," Germany sighed, "but our hands are kind of tied over here. You don't have to solve it or anything, you just have to investigate. Besides, it's for your brother, right?"

"Well... I guess..." Canada sighed. "I'll do it."

"Great, thanks! You're a lifesaver," Germany replied, hanging up the phone.

Canada listened to the dial tone for a while before hanging up.

"Well, Kumakuro," he said, getting his pet's name wrong yet again, "I guess I'm going back to America's house..."

Kumajiro paused. "...Who are you?"

"Canada..."

* * *

"His door's locked," Canada muttered, trying to turn the doorknob once more but unable to do so. He shuffled over to the front window and peered through, trying to see if Mexico was inside.

"Mexico? Mexico?" But if Mexico was there, she didn't hear Canada calling for her.

"Oh," Canada moaned, slumping back against the door, "how am I supposed to investigate if I can't even get inside?" He looked through the window again, squinting to try and make something out of the shadows, but he still saw no one. "Since the door was locked, I was hoping Mexico could get me inside, but..."

He blinked, standing up. "...But Mexico said she got in through the back windows, didn't she?" Canada looked around the driveway and, upon concluding no one was around yet, dashed over to the back of America's house.

"Here, this one has latches on it," Canada noted, stooping over to click the latches up. "I hope this works..." He grunted, heaving the window up and jumping inside, the window frame snapping shut behind him.

To Canada's relief, the alarm didn't go off.

"All right," he said to himself, "let's go check out that closet."

* * *

The small closet light flickered on as Canada shuffled through his brother's clothing.

"It looks like," he muttered, "all of them are undersized." He picked out the outfit the Axis had bought and held it against another, concluding they were pretty much the same size. He hung them back up, but not before the tags caught his eye. "But this one is his normal size... Or, at least, was..." He double-checked the tags, and all of them read the same size—all of them but the original prank outfit.

"That's weird," muttered Canada, tucking the tags back underneath the hangers.

He shuffled through a while longer and found that the only belt in the closet was the one from the prank.

"So, whoever did this didn't buy anything new, I guess," he concluded.

After a few more minutes of digging through the things in America's closet and finding nothing else interesting, Canada shut the closet doors and looked around the rest of the room.

The scale caught his eye, and he walked over. "It was supposed to be 20 pounds more, right?" Canada stepped onto the scale and slid the bars on top until it settled. "That's about right," he said, stepping off. "So, whoever's doing this didn't mess with the scale..."

He took a few more minutes to snoop around the room, but didn't find anything that could have pointed to a suspect.

"Well... Maybe there's something in the kitchen?"

Canada turned the bedroom lights out and tiptoed over to the kitchen.

"Of course, I have no idea what he normally has in here, either..." He looked around the overstuffed fridge and overstuffed pantry nevertheless, but couldn't find anything suspicious.

"Is there anywhere else I could look? America has a really big house, so I'd probably get caught if I tried to look everywhere..." Canada sighed in resignation, trotting back over to the window.

* * *

"So you did find a couple of things, then?" Germany confirmed.

"Yes... I'm not sure if it'll help, but..."

"Any information is good," Germany replied. "Come over to my house and we'll all discuss it."

"Okay."

* * *

"So," Japan started, "what all did you find?"

"Well," Canada replied, "all of his clothes would've been too tight for him, but only the pair you got were actually a smaller size..."

"What do you mean?" Japan asked, confused.

"Oh, I looked at the tags," Canada clarified, "and all of them said they were the right size. Except the outfit you got him."

"So his clothes just shrunk?" Italy pondered.

"Or someone shrunk them," Germany corrected. "All right, what else?"

"There was only one belt, the one we used for the prank," Canada replied. "But... I didn't see anything else; the scale hadn't been messed with, either."

Germany and Japan paused to consider this while Canada and Italy sat by idly.

"And you're sure," Japan said, "there was nothing else that could clue us in on our culprit?"

"I didn't see anything else," replied Canada with a sigh. "Sorry."

"No, that's fine," Germany said, looking deep in thought. "I was hoping to get a solid starting point, but... It looks like you'll just have to interrogate everyone."

"Interrogate?" Canada echoed.

"Yes. I figured we'd have to ask some questions, but it looks like that's all we'll be able to go by now." Germany sighed. "What's today, Sunday?" Canada nodded. "Well, we'll have to figure this out before Friday, for sure," muttered Germany. "All right! Do you think you can do this, Canada?"

"I'm... not really su—"

"Well, you'll have to do your best," Germany interrupted. "Who knows what'll happen if this goes on much longer?" he muttered to himself.

"Well, I'll try," mumbled Canada.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Germany growled, glowering at today's date, Friday, on his calendar. He willed Canada to somehow feel his glare over the phone. "You didn't manage to interrogate a _single person_?"

"I-I'm sorry!" Canada replied. "Even when I did manage to get someone's attention, they would suddenly forget I was there..."

"Dang it!" Germany slammed his phone on its holder, hanging up. He muttered under his breath, walking toward his door to head out for the meeting.

"This is going to be bad..."

* * *

**A/N:** And it seems that despite their effort, the prank has yet to be stopped... So what state will America be in now? Stay tuned~


	7. Here's a Psycho, There's a Psycho

**A/N: **Russia, you freaking meanie! D: (I just had to say that...)

Please review!

* * *

America trudged through the hallway, adjusting his new, substantially-larger, brown coat as he reached for the doorknob. Knowing he was once again the last nation to arrive at the meeting, he opened the door quietly.

"Finally," England sighed. "Do you know how long we've been waiting for you to show up?"

Everyone looked over at America as he shut the door.

"H-Hey! Quit staring at me!" he said defensively, glaring at the many faces turned toward him.

"We're not staring at you," Japan responded slowly. "We're just used to you presenting first, so we assumed you were about to begin."

"R-Right! I knew that!" America scuttled over to his chair and the presentation board behind it. "S-so!" He swallowed a hamburger and started his speech.

* * *

"And that's all," America finished. He looked around the room again. "Quit staring at me, already!" he snapped.

"We're not sta—"

"But you're so funny to stare at!" Russia chirped. "Why are you acting so defensive, anyway? You didn't somehow gain _more_ weight, did you?"

"That's none of your business!" America roared. "A-and no! No, I didn't!"

"Are you su—"

"_Shut up_!" He glanced around the table again, looking more and more paranoid. "I-I told you all to quit staring, dang it!"

A few of the countries awkwardly turned their gazes away.

"U-Um, America, are you all right?" mumbled Canada, concerned.

"What? Yes! I'm perfectly fine! And I _didn't gain any weight_!"

"America," England sighed, "will you quit acting like that? It's one thing if you've gained thirty pounds or something, but—"

"Who told you I gained thirty-f—I-I mean," America quickly corrected himself, "I... Sh-shut up!"

England stared back bewilderedly, obviously not expecting that response.

"A-anyway!" America stammered. "We should get back to the meeting, right? Y-yeah! So, someone go ahead!" America seated himself.

And his chair promptly broke.

"And you say you _haven't_ gained any weight, America?" Russia chuckled.

"Shut up!" snapped America, trying to get back on his feet.

"Now that I look at it, it _does _seem like you're getting a little chubby around the cheeks—"

"I said shut_ up_!" America shouted, whirling around to punch Russia in the stomach, sending him crashing through the wall.

Everyone stared, stunned, at America as he turned back toward the table.

"Does anyone else have something to say about my weight?" he snarled.

The only response was silence.

"That's what I thought." America looked around again. "And will you _quit freaking staring at me_?"

"So!" Germany started nervously, standing up. "Shall we continue the meeting?"

* * *

"That's all, then," England concluded. "Meeting's over."

As the people in the room packed up and started to leave, Canada quietly walked over to his brother.

"Um, America...?"

"What, are you going to make fun of me, too?" America grumbled, looking at Canada suspiciously.

"No, no, of course not..." Canada sighed to fill the silence as he thought. While it would certainly be a good idea to tell America about the April Fool's joke so he could stop freaking out, it didn't look like it would end that well for Canada and the other accomplices. Especially after what happened to Russia.

"Then what is it?" muttered America. He glanced about the room, just waiting for one of the nations leaving to suddenly turn and laugh at him.

"I just... I'm just kind of worried," Canada mumbled. "I mean, it's not like your weight's really a big deal. You don't _look_ any different or anything..."

"Yeah. Sure." America kicked at his broken chair pointedly. "Don't try to make me feel better. I'm sure you're just as amused by this as everyone else," he spat.

"But no one's amused!" objected Canada. "Well, Russia is, but he's... Russia."

"And you don't think anyone else thought this was funny?" America scoffed. "Didn't see them staring? Pursing their lips trying not to burst out laughing?" He gave a small, light laugh that almost sounded insane enough to belong to Russia. "How unobservant."

"I-I think you're imagining things, America," Canada replied. "I'm telling you, no one—"

"Quit trying to comfort me," snapped America. "It's not going to work." He tugged at his coat and turned away from his brother. "I'm going home."

Canada watched helplessly as America trudged out of the meeting room.

* * *

"...Thirty-four? -Five? So, all this and he really did gain some weight," Germany muttered.

"Even so," Japan started, "I highly doubt that would be enough to break that chair. Shall we go investigate?"

Germany nodded.

* * *

"Just as I thought," Japan muttered, rotating a part of the broken chair's leg in his hand. "It's not his normal chair. The legs are hollow." He passed the broken wood over to Germany.

"And really thin," Germany added, poking at the edge of the wood, which splintered beneath his finger. "Do you think whoever did this was the same person who shrunk the clothes?"

"I think so," Japan replied. "But who switched out the chairs?" He started looking around the empty table. "You arrived before me this morning, right? Was anyone already there?"

"Yeah," Germany replied. "Russia, Poland, England, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein all got there before me."

"All right..." Japan took this into consideration. "Russia and England are the only ones with ill will toward America, right?"

"I think so. And we know Russia didn't do it..."

"...So we need to ask England about this," Japan concluded.

"But we promised Russia we wouldn't ask anyone questions," Germany objected.

"Well," Japan replied, standing up, "we really only promised not to look into the first incident. We said nothing about investigating what might happen in the future."

"Okay, then," Germany said, standing up as well. "Let's go find England."

* * *

**A/N:** It looks like America is definitely losing it... Can our heroes find the culprit in time? Stay tuned!


	8. England's Conundrum

**A/N: **I wonder how soon you all can put together the pieces~

Please review! Reviews inspire me x3

* * *

"Well, I waited until 11:00... He should be up by now," Japan mumbled, poised near England's front door.

"Agreed," Germany replied quickly. He had had plans for the rest of yesterday, so going all the way over to England's house then was out of the question.

"Here we go, then," started Japan, rapping on the door a few times.

The two Axis powers—Italy hadn't tagged along due to his promise as well as his crippling fear of England—waited a while, but there was no response.

"Is he not home?" Japan asked rhetorically. He looked over at a window, but it was blinded to the point he couldn't tell whether or not the lights were on inside. He poised his hand to knock on the door again, but a faint click interrupted him.

The door opened slowly, revealing a gloomy-looking England, who looked at the visitors, mumbled something along the lines of, "Good morning, come in," and slunk back inside.

Japan walked through the open doorway slowly, while Germany followed carefully.

"So, what can I do for you, Japan?" mumbled England, settling into a chair as Germany shut the front door. "Can I get you some tea or anything?"

"Oh, no, that won't be necessary," Japan replied quickly. He looked around for a place to seat himself, but since every single light in the building seemed to have been turned off, he couldn't see anything. "I," he started, deciding to just stand, "was looking into a... certain incident, and I was wondering if you could help me in my investigation."

"All right," England agreed slowly.

"The other morning," began Japan, "at the Meeting of the World, you saw what happened to America's chair, correct?"

"Yes..."

"Germany and I checked later and found it had been meddled with. It would collapse the second _anyone_ sat down on it."

" 's that true?" mumbled England, sounding vaguely uninterested.

"Yes," Japan replied. "I—"

"Did you do it?" Germany interrupted impatiently.

England gave a start and squinted, trying to make out the new speaker through the dark. "Germany?" he asked. "When did _you_ get in here?"

"I followed Japan in..." Germany replied, confused England hadn't noticed him. "...But that's beside the point. Did you or did you not tamper with the chair?" he demanded.

"Weird; I didn't see you," England muttered. He paused, apparently unable to remember he was being interrogated.

"You heard me! Quit avoiding the question!" Germany barked.

"What...?" England sighed. "I'm sorry; I'm really not feeling well this morning... So, what was the question...?"

"Did you or did you not tamper with America's chair?" Germany repeated seriously.

"I didn't," England mumbled back. He shakily stood from his chair. "Excuse me for a moment, would you?"

All Germany and Japan heard next were uneven footsteps, a door closing, and the rather unpleasant sound of someone losing his morning scones.

"Convenient he runs off before he backs up his argument," muttered Germany.

"It may be a _little_ suspicious," Japan whispered, "but I don't really think he would abase himself like... _that_ if he didn't need to..."

"_Sure_."

The door clicked back open, and England shuffled back into his living room.

"Sorry 'bout tha—"

"Enough of this beating around the bush!" Germany interrupted acrimoniously. "We're wasting precious time waiting for you! Now, explain your alibi, as well as anything suspicious you may have seen yesterday morning! You have four minutes! Go!" he barked.

"I..." England started with a sigh. "I can't quite remember it well at the moment. I-If you just allow me a minute to gather my thoughts..."

"The clock is ticking," Germany threatened.

"All right, all right," grumbled England. "I... got there early... Though... I'm not sure how early."

"Was anyone there before you?" Japan questioned.

"Yes... Russia, and the Baltics."

"Really?" Germany responded, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes..." England exhaled before continuing. "Russia was... having the Baltics... do _something_," he mumbled, apparently unable to remember exactly what had happened. "And then Switzerland and his sister arrived..."

"I see," Japan muttered, narrowing his eyes. "And you're quite sure it _was_ Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania that were there before you?"

"Of course," England confirmed slowly. "Don't know of any _others_ that tremble so much when Russia just bloody _looks _at them."

"We've got you now!" exclaimed Germany. "It _must_ have been you; your alibi doesn't check out!"

"What...?"

"I entered the meeting room after you," Japan clarified, "and Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania had yet to arrive!"

"So," Germany started with a grin, "you're definitely covering something up! You _were _the one to rig the chair!"

"I didn't rig the bloody chai—!"

"Admit it!" snapped Germany.

"I'm not admitting something I didn't do!" England spat back. He suddenly had to stifle a moan as his headache pounded fiercely again.

"Don't make me _force _you to admit it," Germany threatened.

"Force me...? How do _you _think you can force me?" England muttered back.

"Like this!" Germany replied, slamming his hand onto the light switch. He himself had to squint as the foyer lit up with a fierce, yellow blaze.

England—whose hangover was _not_ helped by the sudden brightness—shouted, immediately trying to bury his face in one of his couches' throw pillows. "Turn it off, turn it off, turn it _off_!" he screamed.

"Not until you confess!" roared Germany, ripping the pillow from England's hands.

"There's nothing _to _confess!" England yelled. "Now turn the lights _off_, you son-of-a—"

"No!" Germany swiped the couch's other throw pillow before England got to it. "What were you drinking about, anyway? Something _America _did?"

"That's completely irreleva—"

"Something," continued Germany, "you'd want to get back at him for?"

"I swear I didn't rig his bloody chair!" England screamed. "Now just turn the lights _off_!"

"I—" Germany stopped as the room suddenly went dark again. "Hey!"

"This has gone on long enough," Japan sighed, taking his hand off the light switch. "I'm quite sure England didn't do it."

Though he _did_ have the impulse to thank Japan, England was too occupied with his completely crushing headache to do so.

"Then why isn't his story analogous to yours?" pointed out Germany.

"I don't know," Japan sighed. "But, overlooking that, I'm very sure he's telling the truth."

"I _did _do a pretty good job interrogating," Germany conceded, still sounding unsure.

"Just leave," England moaned. "I don't care whether you want to accuse me of this, just _leave_."

"Come on," Japan sighed, opening the door a bit once he managed to locate it. "I apologize for this, England. I assure you we were only trying to figure out who's been doing this to America."

England mumbled something in reply, but it was too incoherent to understand.

* * *

**A/N: **So, England's not the culprit, either? Then who in the world could it be? ! Stay tuned~


	9. So a Briton and a German Walk Into a Bar

**A/N: **Hehe, it seems some reviewers have come up with their own theories—and a certain someone is quite close to dead-on. See if this chapter can clarify anything for you...!

Please review, especially if you think you know who it is! ;)

* * *

"So it wasn't England, either?" Italy asked, cocking his head to the side.

Japan nodded. "He told us he didn't do it, and I'm quite sure he wasn't lying."

"I'm not completely convinced he was telling the truth," sighed Germany, "but Japan _did_ allege his legitimacy..."

"We'll just have to trust him," Japan responded with a shrug. "There's not much other investigation we can do. It's not as if we knew where he was drinking, or anything like that, after all."

Germany seemed to ponder on this. "Actually... I think I do." Upon seeing his allies' apparent confusion, he continued. "I'm pretty sure I've caught a glance of him a few times at one of the bars I go to..."

"Well, do you want to check it out, then, Germany?" asked Italy.

"Yeah," Germany replied. "And since we're just asking about England, we don't need Japan's chicanery to keep us out of trouble with Russia."

"Huh?" Italy responded confusedly.

"That means you get to come, too," translated Germany. "Let's go." He headed off, Japan and Italy in his wake.

"Germany! Do they have pasta at the—"

"No."

* * *

The bartender swept off the empty counter with a rag. No one was in his service zone; only one group of customers was in the place at all, and they were sitting on the other side of the building, in a booth, eating some chicken wings and watching an apparently unpopular sporting event on one of the many television screens.

Then the door finally opened, and the bartender easily recognized the first of the three visitors.

"Hey, Germany!" he called. "Nice to see you back." He hung his rag over the side of the sink as the newcomers neared the bar area. "Should I set you up with your normal five?"

"Not right now, Nicky," replied Germany as Italy and Japan exchanged confused glances about what their friend's "normal five" was. "What I'm after today is some information."

" 'Kay," Nicky replied, leaning with his hands on the counter. "Nothing interesting's happened lately, but I'll try to help."

"All right. Were you working here last night?"

"As always."

"Did you happen to see a guy—blonde hair, green eyes, thick eyebrows?"

"You mean, uh, Arthur?" responded Nicky.

"Yeah," Germany answered, knowing England sometimes went by that name in public. "Did anything... curious happen?"

"You mean besides his drunk personality?" Nicky laughed. He trailed off, eyes thoughtful. "Well... Yeah, I guess." He drummed his fingers on the countertop. "There was another guy—doesn't come here often, so I didn't recognize him—that spontaneously offered to pay for Arthur's drinks."

"Really?" asked Japan. "What did this man look like?"

"Dunno," Nicky sighed. "He was sitting a ways back, in one of the booths, so I didn't actually serve him. All I knew was to charge him for Arthur's drinks. Which he had a lot more of since he didn't have to pay."

"So someone must have wanted to get him drunk," Japan concluded under his breath.

"Well, could you see what the guy was eating, or drinking?" Germany asked, hoping to get some sort of hint about the meddler.

"No," replied Nicky, "not really. Wasn't eating anything, I don't think." He mused for a second. "I don't know what exactly he was drinking, but I _did_ see a shot glass by his hand. So, probably whisky, tequila... Vodka, maybe."

Germany and Japan exchanged glances at the last suggestion. "I think we know who our culprit is," Germany concluded, nodding at Nicky. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem," Nicky replied.

Japan started for the door, but Germany paused. "...Where'd Italy go?"

Japan turned around. "I don't know."

"Italy!" boomed Germany. He sighed. "Has he somehow gotten lost—"

"Coming, Germany~!"

Germany exhaled as Italy came hopping out of the kitchen, a bowl in his arms.

"Hey! What were you doing in there?" Nicky asked suspiciously.

"Making some pasta, ve~."

"...But we don't have the supplies for pasta here..."

Italy ignored the bartender's last comment and trodded over to the door.

"All right, let's go," sighed Germany, sadly used to things like this.

* * *

With the bar's door shut behind the Axis, Japan resumed conversation.

"So," he started, "for some reason, Russia wanted to get England drunk."

"And I think we can assume it's not because he wanted to hear his wailing about lost colonies," added Germany. "So... He wanted England to... forget something?"

"Of course!" Japan replied. "Remember, England said he saw Russia making the Baltics do something."

"Something incriminating," Germany put in. "But he didn't realize someone else had witnessed it until..."

"Until the Baltics left," Japan ended. Germany gave him a glance, so he elaborated. "England said the Baltics were already there, before me. But when I arrived, they hadn't arrived yet. Or, hadn't come back."

"So, Russia has the Baltics run to get something... Or dispose of something."

"The chair legs!" Japan exclaimed. "It must have been the chair legs."

"So," Germany concluded, "Russia arrives early, dragging the Baltics along with him. He brought a rigged set of chair legs to switch out with the real ones on America's chair. He gets down on hands and knees to swap them out, then gives the solid set to the Baltics to dispose of."

"But then he looks across the table," Japan continued, "and finds that England was there. Assuming he saw the act, Russia decides to make him forget what he had seen. And the easiest way to do so?"

"Make him drink," answered Germany.

"So, Russia messed up the chair?" Italy interjected through a mouthful of pasta.

"Yes..." Japan replied slowly, raising an eyebrow.

"But I thought he said he _didn't_ try to mess up America," the brunette continued confusedly.

Germany sighed. "I don't think he did, not at first. We just assumed whoever messed with the chair was who was culpable for carrying on the prank in the first place."

"We shouldn't have made assumptions about it," Japan muttered. "Now we've figured _this_ out, but we're no closer to solving the original problem."

Germany grumbled something under his breath angrily. "You know what? Let's just go tell America this whole thing."

Japan raised an eyebrow. "By now, that's likely to be a total suicide mission."

"Do you have any other ideas?" Germany growled.

"Well, we could continue investigating—without asking questions, of course, so Russia can't hold anything against us," suggested Japan evenly. "If we cursorily tell America we started it, and nothing else, he'll without a doubt explode at us. But," he continued, "if we can somehow get to the bottom of this, and tell him who the more serious culprit is, he should be able to see we're not the ones to hold guilty."

Germany grumbled something to himself.

"That is, if you'd rather not risk your health on something this trivial," Japan finished.

"All right, we'll try investigating some more," conceded Germany. "But how are we going to without asking more questions?"

"We'll go to the scene of the crime ourselves," Japan decided.

* * *

**A/N: **So, it seems our heroes have gone back to square one. Will their investigation be successful? And will they find out who _did_ carry on the prank?

Stay tuned~


	10. Breaking Down the Doors, Kind Of

**A/N: **I made up Japan's device, for the lulz. Cybercookies to anyone who bothers to look up what all it means~

I weally wuv weviews. :3 Hint hint.

* * *

"You need me to _what_?" Canada asked dubiously, gripping the telephone held up to his ear.

"Well, we don't need you to distract him for _too_ long," Germany replied. "Just long enough for us to go through the evidence ourselves."

"Um... Maybe _I_ could just go through the closet again," mumbled Canada.

"No, you already told us everything you found. Japan and I are going to look for whatever you missed, personally."

Canada stifled a sigh. "Do I... really need to...?"

"Yes. That is, if you don't want us telling America you're the one who exchanged the clothes and scale in the first place."

"Okay, I'll do it," Canada muttered, trying not to imagine what his brother might do to him otherwise.

"Thanks. We'll be over there this afternoon at 3:00 sharp!"

"All right..." Canada frowned as the phone clicked and hummed a dial tone. He looked over at his pet polar bear. "How do I keep getting myself into these things, Kumahito?" he sighed.

Kumajiro blinked at him. "Who are you again?"

"Canada..."

* * *

Canada gulped as he stepped up to his brother's front door. He looked at the doorknob, but was wary of triggering the alarm.

Instead, he poised his hand above the wood for a minute before knocking unebulliently.

No one answered the door, so he knocked again, a little louder.

But still no one came.

"Maybe he's not home?" he figured, heading for a window to look inside.

But the window was blocked by dark curtains, and so was every other panel of glass Canada came across.

"He must be _really _paranoid about people seeing him," Canada sighed, walking around to the back window he had come in a few days ago. He slipped his thumbs under the latches and pulled.

But the window was locked.

"Well, there's no way _I'm_ getting inside," humphed Canada, pulling his hands away and dusting them off. "Germany and Japan probably won't be able to, either..."

Canada sighed, adjusted his disheveled glasses, and walked back to the front.

"Did you find him?"

Germany and Japan were already waiting at the driveway, apparently.

"No luck," replied Canada with a shake of his head. "I can't get in, either. Everything's locked or set up for the alarm."

"I was afraid this might happen," Japan sighed, putting a hand in his pocket. He shuffled around for a bit, then pulled out a silver circular prism covered in buttons and display windows.

"What's that?" asked Canada, walking up to the two Axis and taking a look at the device.

"I call it a Shinjirarenai tachidokoro ni keihou o hanashite kudasai no kikai," Japan replied. "Or Shinshin for short." He turned the device around, making it glint in the sunshine. "It disengages alarm systems via high-frequency sound waves. I already have it programmed for America's alarm, since that's what I usually use it for."

"...Why have you needed to turn off his alarm before?" Germany asked slowly.

"America has a tendency to forget to return video games I've lent him."

"Ah. Well, we're burning daylight," Germany announced. "Let's try it out."

Japan nodded and placed his fingers over a few buttons on the Shinshin. As he machine started to make a slow clicking noise, Japan held the buttons down.

And proceeded to watch in confusion as the house's front windows shattered violently.

"Ah!" Canada yelped, jumping back from the splatter of shards.

Japan looked at the Shinshin bewilderedly. "I could have sworn this was set correctly..." He moved his fingers away, looking over the displays. "What happened?"

"Now that I think about," started Germany slowly, "I remember Italy saying he found a cool new metronome in your stuff..."

Japan sighed, shoving the Shinshin back in his pocket. "Well, it wasn't as discreet as I was hoping, but I suppose we did make a way in," he concluded, stepping toward the front window. He was careful to avoid the sharp edges as he slid inside, shoving the curtain away from him.

"The alarm hasn't gone off, has it?" Canada asked warily.

"No," replied Japan, pulling the curtain away from the door so the others could see inside.

Germany and Canada stepped through the frame one at a time, and Japan pulled the curtain back shut.

Germany blinked at the sudden lack of light, but soon got used to it. With the straight slivers of sun creeping through the sides of the door and curtains, things could still be made out some.

"Which way is his room?" asked the blonde, looking about the hallways.

"This way," Canada replied in a whisper, still fearing detection. He started down one of the hallways, and the others followed him as the light disappeared.

"Here it is!" announced Canada after a while, as he opened a door and fumbled around for the lightswitch inside. He found it, and sent the room into a yellow-white blaze that took a minute for his eyes to overcome.

"All right," Japan started, stepping toward the closet and sliding the doors open, "let's see what we can find."

* * *

**A/N: **Our group didn't have the best luck getting into the house... (But it's better than running into the emotionally-damaged version of America.) Will they fare better in the next step of their investigation?

Stay tuned~


	11. Making Known the Mischief Maker

**A/N: **Apologies for the delay. I've been a bit obsessed with my other Hetalia fic (it's not crack, and it's a crossover, but it's still a good read). Forgive me enough to review? :)

* * *

"So, what are we looking for?" Canada started as Germany started pulling some of the hangers out of the closet.

"Anything that could point to a particular country," replied Japan, getting the last of the outfits out.

"Hairs, fingerprints..." Germany gave the first outfit in his hand careful scrutiny before hanging it back up. "Probably hairs, since this fabric won't hold prints."

"All right," Canada said. He watched as the two in front of him shuffled through the clothes themselves. Apparently they weren't about to let him check again.

"Nothing in my portion," Japan announced, hanging up the last of the clothes in his hands.

Germany hung another of the outfits. "I still have a couple to g—" Germany was cut off by a short beep.

"The alarm!" gasped Canada, running over to the bedroom door. He squinted through the darkness as a series of six, lower-pitched beeps sounded, turning off the alarm.

"He's home!" Germany hissed through his teeth. "Canada, go distract him!"

"What?" Canada responded without thinking. "...How am I going to explain the windows?"

"I don't know!" spat back Germany. "Tell him England was trying to sing or something!"

"But England actually has a pretty good singing voice—"

"Just make something up! Hurry, before he finds us!" Germany interrupted, flicking off the bedroom's light switch.

Canada stumbled outside the room and nervously started toward the foyer. He was just a few steps through the hallway when the lights flashed on.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" America called accusatorily.

Canada gulped and stepped over toward his brother, who was still wearing his oversize coat. Canada hadn't figured out an excuse for his presence yet.

"I..." He couldn't come up with anything.

"Let me guess!" snarled America, stomping toward the other brunette. "You were going to spy on me! And laugh at me, like everyone else!"

"No!" Canada responded quickly. "I... I was..." An idea suddenly arose in his head. "I was going to ask Mexico on a date!" he blurted out. "And... you know, since she's over here a lot, I thought I'd try finding her at your house first."

America cocked his head to the side. "Oh..." He frowned. "Well, she's not here," he huffed, crossing his arms. "I caught her a couple of days ago, trying to spy on me, and..." He trailed off with a light laugh that scared Canada a little. "Let's just say she won't get the chance to ridicule me again. And no one else will, either," he ended pointedly, glaring at Canada.

"I won't make fun of you!" Canada squeaked, backing up a little. "I promise! There's-there's not even anything to make fun of!"

"That's right," America replied threateningly. He muttered something to himself before starting down a hallway.

The hallway leading to his room.

"Uh, wait!" started Canada nervously, padding after his brother.

"What?" America snapped, turning around.

"Um..." Canada tried to think of something that would distract him without getting him killed. "I thought I just saw Mexico, running down this hallway!" he said, pointing down a hallway that led away from the bedroom.

"What?" exclaimed America, turning to look. "She can't seriously be stupid enough to come back here!" He clenched his fists.

"Well, let's see if we can track her down," Canada began, starting down the hallway. His brother followed him for a second, then pushed him aside and took the lead, taking a much quicker pace.

Canada gulped as America continued to storm down the hallway. Hopefully this could keep him occupied long enough for the others to gather their evidence...

As Canada watched his brother stomp along, he noticed something odd. To every couple of steps was a slight stagger, or lurch, like America was tired somehow. But the rest of his demeanor quite knocked out that possibility, so Canada dismissed it as his imagination.

They came up to the last door in the hallway.

"Well, I guess she's not here," America huffed, crossing his arms.

"Um... We should check inside," suggested Canada, going for the doorknob. He opened up the door to find an exercise room, filled with equipment and weights too heavy for any human to lift. The light was on, though Canada hadn't touched it, and the area still smelled of sweat.

"Have you been in here recently?" Canada started. "Um, because the light's on!" he added quickly, not wanting his question to be taken as some sort of physical fitness accusation.

"Yeah... I've been in here a lot recently," replied America, slowly, as if he couldn't decide whether to be angry or not. "The diets hadn't been working out that well, so—" he took a step into the room and stumbled, but righted himself quickly—"I decided instead to... work out... heroically!"

America wobbled to the side suddenly, but instead of jumping back up like he had before, he plopped to the ground.

"Um... America?" Canada squatted down and poked his brother, but America was out cold. "Well... I guess that works for distracting him..." He stared at his brother for a couple of seconds before deciding he couldn't just leave him there. He hooked his elbows under America's arms and, with a grunt, pulled him up a little.

"But, I can't put him on his bed, since Germany and Japan are still looking in there..." Canada sighed, dragging his brother over to an empty benchpress bench and positioning him on top of it. He pulled his hands back, looked over his handiwork, and shrugged. There wasn't much else he could do, after all.

He walked back to the workout room's door, flipped off the lights, and paused. Turning the lights back on, just in case, he closed the door and went back into the dark hallway.

"How are those two doing, anyway?" He felt his way along the bumpy walls and smoother doors until he reached the bedroom door.

"Did you guys find anything?" He reached for the doorknob, but someone tackled him from the side before he could touch it.

"Hey-what?" Canada staggered to the right, narrowly avoiding falling over, as the attacker kept arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"Thanks for misleading him. Could've been nasty if he'd found me." Canada recognized the voice as Mexico's.

"Oh... Um, you're welcome?" he replied faintly, deciding not to tell her he'd had no idea she was actually there.

"So... What was that about asking me on a date?"

"Oh!" Canada's cheeks turned a little red. "A-About that..."

Suddenly, the bedroom door swung open loudly, throwing some light into the hallway and making Canada thankful it had interrupted the awkward conversation.

"Well," started Germany, staring down at something in his hand, "all we found was..." He looked up at the two in the hallway for the first time and seemed a little confused about their halfway-hugging, but shook his head, deciding it didn't really matter. "All we found was this one hair," he said, holding up the coal-colored string of evidence. "Everything else was obviously America's..." He trailed off, an expression of scrutiny on his face as he eyed Mexico.

"Hello to you, too," she started slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Canada, what's going on?"

"Um..."

Japan stepped up next to Germany, took the strand of hair from him, and, before she could react, held it up to Mexico's locks.

It was a perfect match.

Japan narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you tell us, Mexico?"

* * *

**A/N: **And the insidious perpetrator is revealed (probably)! Did you guess correctly? And what's going to happen to our group when America wakes up?

Stay tuned~


	12. The End?

**A/N: **Well, everyone, looks like this is the last chapter. Thanks so much for reading, and I'd still love it if you were to review. :)

* * *

"How should I know?" Mexico started slowly, raising an eyebrow. "I don't even know what you guys were doing."

"Searching for clues," replied Japan evenly, lowering his hand. "And, as you can see, we found one. One that points straight to you."

Mexico scoffed. "Yeah. You found my hair on his clothes. Big deal. I hang around here all the time, you know."

There was a pause, and Germany slowly started to grin. "We never told you we found it on his clothes."

Mexico's eyes widened, but she blinked them back to normal in a heartbeat. "Well, where else would you be looking? There's not much in there except the closet and the bed. Unless you count all the junk he has lying around." She met Germany's gaze evenly.

"Even if you are here as often as you say—which I do not doubt—what exactly were you doing in the closet?" asked Japan.

"Uh... Hanging around."

"In a closet?" Japan persisted.

"Well, it's easy to hide in there when he starts looking for me," Mexico added.

"I don't believe 'hanging out' and 'hiding' are the same thing, Mexico," Japan responded.

Mexico sighed exaggeratedly. "Canada, tell him he's being ridiculous." She glared at Japan. "Whatever you're accusing me of, I didn't do it. Right, Canada?"

"U-Um..." Canada stammered nervously. For what was probably the first time in his life, all eyes were on him. "I... don't know?"

"All right, Mexico," growled Germany, "we know you did it. Are you going to confess, or am I going to have to drag a confession _out _of you?"

Mexico frowned, finding the latter option not the best prospect. "All right, all right, fine, I shrunk his clothes in the wash. It's not like the whole thing was my idea, anyway." She turned to Canada. "And I'm guessing it wasn't all your brainchild, either."

Canada shook his head.

"It was my idea," conceded Germany, "but it was only supposed to be a joke. You've taken it too fa—"

"Aha! You admit it!" Germany flinched at the voice interrupting him, while Mexico took flight, vanishing in a matter of seconds as a loud set of footsteps came toward the bedroom.

Canada backed away shakily as the now-awake America charged into the area.

"So it _was _you!" America announced, like he had suspected it the whole time—he hadn't—and pointed an accusatory finger at the blonde. "I should've known!"

"You knew about the 'prank'?" Japan started quizzically. "With the way you reacted, I was sure you didn't..."

"You guys just told me about it."

"...True."

America crossed his arms threateningly. "So. Who all was in on this?" he asked, glaring at the area's occupants.

"All of us," replied Japan. "But Canada, Germany, and I intended for it to last one day. The prolonging of the incident is completely Mexico's fault."

"Mexico," America growled, clenching a fist. "Of course."

"But," Canada started, "it's all over now. You just need to get a new set of outfits, and get the scale fixed—"

"I already covered the scale," Germany assured.

"You messed with the scale, too?" America asked, sounding less threatening and more confused. "That explains a _lot_..." He walked over, the two Axis nations getting out of his way, and stepped onto the scale, sliding the bars across.

"Uh..." he started, staring at the readout, "I don't think you fixed it all the way."

"I did," Germany responded. "I corrected all twenty pounds I had put on it."

"...Twenty?"

"Yes..."

"_Just _twenty?"

"Yes."

With a groan, America slumped over. "So I still actually gained weight..." He stayed drooped over, his back to the other three nations.

With a quickly exchanged glance, they realized it was the perfect time to get away; America didn't seem to be showing signs of his earlier breakdown, but that didn't mean he wouldn't.

So, the three slipped out of the room, leaving him alone to contemplate what all the chaos had brought on.

* * *

A few days later, Germany awoke, pleasantly surprised Italy hadn't snuck onto the other side of his mattress while he'd been asleep.

The blonde still thought it odd, though, that America hadn't exacted any form of revenge. Even during yesterday's meeting, America—who seemed about back to as normal as he ever would be—hadn't so much as glared at him or any of the other conspirators.

With a hardly stifled yawn, Germany rose from his bed and went to get ready for today's meeting. While it was rare for the meetings to occur more than once a week, every once in a while, a subject was dire enough to require it.

Germany brushed his hair, and on his way to the tube of hair gel on the counter, almost tripped over his small scale.

Come to think of it, he hadn't checked in a while...

"Why don't you step on?"

With a startled grunt, Germany turned to see America half-hidden behind his shower curtains.

"What are you doing in my house?" the blonde barked.

"Nothing," America replied slowly, sounding anything but nonchalant.

Germany glanced down at the scale suspiciously, then turned back toward America.

"It already reads fifty pounds, you idiot! You think I would fall for something like that?" America opened his mouth, but decided not to reply.

"Get out of my house," Germany grumbled, turning around to step on the scale. He waited for it to settle.

"...minus fifty..." He stared at the readout. "Wait... That... can't be right..."

"Oho! Is someone getting a beer belly?" chirped America.

"I said, _get out of my house_!" Germany roared. America scuttled away, leaving the blonde to stare over the unexpectedly high readout.

* * *

"Haha! Good job! He didn't suspect a thing," America congratulated, handing the promised cash over. "Adding the fifty pounds in the beginning totally tricked him out of figuring out the extra fifteen on there!"

"Yeah, yeah." Switzerland fingered through the few bills. "And the cost of shrinking the waistbands?"

"Oh, yeah. Here you go."


End file.
